Phera Moans Ch. 03

Alas, this will be my last submission until mid-August. I will not stop writing, but I will only have restricted Internet access and will not be able to reach the site. Until then, enjoy.

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The group had been on the road for roughly a week. It had taken Phera two days to gather all the useful information about the jewels that was available where they had received the assignment, and one more to pick up a few leads to where the official’s piece had originated from. Part of a matching set, the headband that he had given them a detailed drawing of was made from long strands of braided platinum wire, set with hundreds of tiny rubies and diamonds in an intricate fire pattern. In an inverted teardrop on the front was a large onyx an inch long and a half-inch wide.

It was this description that identified each piece of the set, modified slightly for practicality. To properly copy any of them would require great amounts of wealth and skill, but even then it would seem lacking. They were magically enhanced to shine and sparkle in the smallest amount of light, completely indestructible, and covered in invisible wards that protected both them and the wearer from almost all conceivable dangers.

And, of course, they were all cursed.

Each individual piece had its own curse, and if they were all worn by the same person at the same time, the curses would meld into something that could bring down the strongest of persons. This was why the step-son of the queen for whom the curse had originated had sent each piece as far in every direction as he could.

What Phera had learned from the merchant who had carried the headband into the town in the first place was that this may have included sending them to different planes, making it even less likely that they would ever meet again. She had also learned that the curse placed on the headband would gradually increase the wearer’s creativity in all things sexual while draining it from everything else. Eventually they would have no ideas, no imagination, unless it directly involved sex. They would soon be useless as anything but a slut, given that most of the wearers were trophies with little intelligence or logic to begin with.

The merchant who had sold it to Lord Moline, their current employer, claimed that he had legally obtained the headband from a caravan traveling from the country to the north. Given his reputation, Phera had been convinced otherwise and proceeded to draw out with her teeth the admission that he had had his resident thieves overtake the caravan and remove anything that they felt they could get a decent price for. With less effort than she had expected, she had gotten the thieves properly intoxicated and convinced them to give her a complete, if slightly exaggerated description of the caravan as they boasted of their prowess to the pretty new bar wench.

It had taken a few days to find their trail, and another one to catch up with them. Their scout, Teva, had just spotted the caravan about twenty miles along the road, and they would catch up with them in a few minutes. Those among them with unnaturally good eyesight could see that the caravan had spotted them as well, being in a clear, hilly area, and had begun hiding the valuables and arming themselves. Noting that the caravan was entirely composed of men, Phera stepped out of sight behind Dru and morphed into a less than intimidating form.

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Some of the visible tension that had appeared in the men of the caravan when they had spotted the approaching band dissipated as they stopped about fifty yards short, instead sending an emissary to meet them. A delicate female elf came forward, raising her hands to indicate a peaceful greeting. Not a few lecherous gazes followed her as she stepped into the middle of the band, admiring the fact that she was clad in a trim doeskin tunic that only dreamed of reaching the middle of her smooth thighs. More than one man wanted to twine his fingers through her golden hair, getting a good grip as he ravaged her sweet, full mouth, or her tight little pussy.

At only roughly five feet tall, every man she passed close to made a point to stare down the front of her low-cut top at her perky, apple-sized breasts. Slit to her hips at the skirt and to her sternum at the front, it was obvious to all that she had come along without undergarments, and none of them were complaining.

“My companions and I come in search of information. We mean you no harm, unless you should choose to harm one of ours. Now if you would, please show me to the leader of your group.”

Her rich, melodic voice did little to break the men’s lust, whose ears interpreted it as a voice they would want talking dirty to them. Unfortunately for them, a large, middle aged man with a great sword strapped to his hip had stuck his head out of the back of the only covered wagon in the caravan to see what the commotion was, and announced himself as their leader before the rest of them could start making false claims.

Signaling for the young woman to join him in the semi-privacy of the wagon, he cast a menacing look over his crew, hoping they would take the hint and stop acting like horny teenagers. However, that did not stop him from taking a long look down the front of her tunic as she was aided in climbing into the wagon next to him, it having been made for passengers much taller than her. The guard who boosted her nearly split a seam in his trousers when he caught a glimpse of her wet, unclad femininity, her skirt riding high as she was propelled up.

The battle-scarred old warrior who met her inside fared no better as he was greeted with a longer glimpse of the view, Phera choosing to sit cross-legged on the floor across from him as he introduced himself simply as West.

“So what would a lovely young woman such as yourself, as well as the company you arrived with, want with a simple group or merchants like us? You are not bandits, or you would have taken everything already. Or did you intend to stun us all with your beauty while your friends snuck off with our goods?”

He grinned and gave her a roguish wink, trying to use humor to hide the uncomfortable bulge in his pants and the frequent glimpses at her exposed flesh. She was not fooled for a second, smiling sweetly at the glint in his eyes and the growing wet patch on his crotch, his cock nearly weeping with want. Reaching into her belt for the drawing of the headband, she shifted forwards onto her hands and knees, feigning the need to stretch to hand it to him.

She remained in that position while he unrolled the parchment, glancing back and forth between the picture, her now mostly exposed breasts, and her soft lips that were level with his cock. He nearly moaned as she slowly licked them, giving him a playfully innocent look as he continued to stare, failing to notice that her entire backside was on display to anyone choosing to look into the open end of the wagon.

“We have reason to believe this item was recently stolen from you, and we need to know where you obtained it.”

“A good man of the trade never reveals his secrets, not without very good reason, and this particular piece required our full capabilities to bring it into our possession.”

All the humor in his voice had been replaced with pure lust as his hands began to creep towards her. She gently swatted one away even as the other slid below the neck of her tunic to grasp her bare breast. Phera arched into his palm and moaned, discarding the ruse of resisting in innocence for one of overwhelming desire. With a look of unwanted restraint, she pushed both his hands back into his lap before sitting back and crossing her arms below her chest, ‘inadvertently’ squeezing her breasts together and up, nearly freeing her nipples from the low-cut tunic.

“I am sorry, Mr. West, but we must discuss this further before I can begin compensating for the information, or else I fear we may never get around to it. You recognize the piece.”

“Yes, yes... one of my men obtained it from a drunken adventurer who had thought it just a trinket. No knowledge of anything along the lines of magical properties or appraisal. Now come here and start paying for this information, it is not going to come cheap. Get those tits out and let me see them.”

“Well, Mr. West, if you think there is no better option of payment.”

Phera uncrossed her arms, letting her breasts fall back into place with a little jiggle before reaching into her tunic and pulling them out. Keeping them covered with her hands, she rubbed them slowly, caressing herself while never letting West see more than a peek of her pink areolae. Giving him a bashful look as she twisted her nipples between her fingers, she nonetheless smirked as he stroked himself through his pants.

“Go on, Mr. West, unless you do not want me to have to earn anymore information. Did this adventurer or where he was met have a name?”

“Oh, we would not want to leave you uninformed. He did not leave a name, nor did the hole of a tavern he was met in. But he did mention he had taken it from the hoard of a great white dragon who was living in a mountain about three hundred miles north of here. One cannot miss the area. It is frozen over in places it should not be and the few locals who might remain will tell you all you want. He was not boasting about killing the beast, so we figure he grabbed a few things and snuck out while the rest of his party was turned into a pack of icicles. Now that is all we know around here, so you better open that pretty little mouth of yours and start on the next payment.”

Phera simply nodded as he reached over and roughly took her breast from her hand. She gasped as he began tweaking her nipple while trying unsuccessfully to unlace his trousers with his free hand. With Phera’s help they were open and falling around his ankles a few seconds later. Plopping back down onto the bench he nudged her head towards his twitching cock even while pulling slightly on her nipple, taking both breasts in his large hands as she started giving him long, slow licks from base to head.

Seemingly far from immune to the sensation of his skin rasping over every inch of her breasts, she moved his hands away long enough to toss off her tunic before resuming her work on his cock. Having gotten it sufficiently moist from her tongue, she engulfed him completely with her mouth in a single motion, eliciting a deep moan and a sharp twist on her nipples, causing her to squeal around his cock. Noting that West’s mind was wrapped entirely around her, Phera began slurping loudly even as she took him halfway down her throat, massaging his testicles with her tongue and moaning louder than could be caused by the amount of pleasure he was giving her.

She also noted that the noises had drawn a crowd, leading to a less than experienced hand reaching between her legs, stroking the bare, glistening pussy lips that had been the subject of many stares since she had first climbed into the wagon. Spreading her legs wide, she offered herself to her invisible assailant while continuing to suck the oblivious West.

The noises increased as the hand was joined by a tongue that prodded her wet hole as he rubbed her clit. She could sense some frustration in him as he tried to unlace his pants with one hand while the other slid two long, thick fingers into her, his tongue now exploring her tiny anus.

It was not until the man behind her climbed into the wagon and began thrusting haphazardly into her pussy did the old warrior even notice that he was not the only one engrossed in the hot little elf. He was not presently in a position to object, but did appreciate the reaction the other man caused in her when he took the fingers that were still wet from her pussy and shoved them deep into her ass. They could both feel their balls tightening as she squealed and squirmed while their cocks and hands held her in place as if on a spit.

With a smirk towards the visitor, West pulled Phera from her current position and onto his lap, facing the new man and the rest of the crowd. He quickly thrust his cock into her sopping pussy and began teasing her clit, Phera getting only the slightest glimpse of the aroused and sorely tempted guard who had helped her into the wagon before he buried himself in her face. Taking the initiative to maintain some form of rhythm, she began bouncing on West’s cock while sucking the guard’s into her throat.

Her clit, breasts, and even the pointed tips of her ears were toyed with mercilessly until she thrust down to the hilt on both of them and screamed an explosive, if somewhat fake orgasm. The corresponding vibrations from her mouth and contractions from her pussy drove the two men to spurt deep inside of her. The sheer pleasure of it, added to by the trace amounts of energy she was draining from them, sent her into another orgasm and a pleasure high that was wasted when the men pulled from her and collapsed, exhausted.

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“If you take her without her consent, your life will be forfeit, and that would greatly complicate things around here.”

Of the four members of the caravan who had concluded that they were entitled to a turn with the apparently semi-conscious woman in the back of their largest wagon, three gave pause to the rough, commanding voice behind them. The final man arrogantly finished dragging her nude body to the ground before turning around to face Dru, who had taken his cue to keep anything from possibly extending their stay. One defiant look at the reddish skin, glowing eyes, and poison-tipped horns, and the man dropped Phera and his bowels with a whimper.

“As such, I recommend you hand my companion and her belongings to me.”

Not quite stupid enough to protest, two of the men lifted Phera, now covered in sweat, semen, and dirt from the road, and passed her over to Dru, who tossed her over his shoulder. The third retrieved her tunic from the wagon and did the same. Dru carried her back to her companions where he reached into a pocket on her belt and removed a small cube. He muttered something only the closest could really hear and only Eron grasped, and the cube opened into a human-sized, shimmering door. Setting Phera inside, he returned the door to cube form and the cube to her pocket and packed her tunic into his saddlebag. Without so much as a glance at the caravan or the men who had planned to take further advantage of his cohort, he mounted his horse and the group nonchalantly rode off the path to the north.

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About an hour later, Eron signaled for the group to stop, and Dru removed the cube from his bag. Repeating the command word, it opened and Phera stepped out; fully dressed, clean and well rested. She hopped onto her horse that another member of the party had been leading beside his own, and took the cube and her tunic from Dru.

“So what do we have planned for this little dragon problem? Not all of us here are particularly fond of the cold.”

She cocked an eyebrow at Eron, who had been on the receiving end of a telepathic link relaying all relevant information during Phera’s ‘interrogation’ of West. She and Dru hailed from different layers of hell, while Eron’s training had led him down a path of burning death, and none of them were known for taking Arctic vacations. Even the temperate regions of the Material Plane where they did most of their work tended to be rather brisk for their tastes. This was why their group varied so much beyond the three of them; most of the humanoids they took on could not handle some of the more extreme environments in existence. The white dragon, the ice dragon, was a task that would require a resilience that would tax their bodies severely.

“The three of us should be fine, but the lackeys have been informed of the task, and some have already started making plans for leaving us soon. We might be able to pick up some background in the towns that the dragon is lording over, since they have probably sent quite a few of their men to try to kill it already, and they would be more used to what it can do. If not, it is just a dragon. It will be just as vulnerable to us as we are to it, and we already know what we are up against. We three could take it.”

Phera was almost surprised at Eron’s comment; not because of his arrogant belief that they would not need pawns, but because he voiced it in Draconic. She wondered why he would bother casually speaking in a language that was so foreign to him, and then realized his reason was just that. Dru and her spoke it fluently, Eron just barely knew it, and there was effectively no chance that any of the others present had any clue what they were talking about. Normally they would discuss the job in common so they would not have to brief anyone on what was going to occur. He was now making it quite clear that they would be going into this alone. Phera took the hint and responded in the tongue of the dragons.

“True. One well placed fireball, or in your case, Eron, just your very presence would knock it off balance for long enough to kill it. But we cannot do that immediately, and white dragons are notoriously short-tempered. We need to find out where it got the headband, and then we can kill it. With a piece like that, it more than likely has a huge hoard, and that would be more for us. Combine that with what we are getting paid and what the other idiots have left behind, this could be quite a haul.”

“Right. Dru?”

Nod.

“Ok, we can just head out once we get supplies from the next town. It should not take more than a day or so to pull that off, unless either of you want to pick up new weapons or upgrade your armor. Phera, you get most of the shopping since you are the only one of us who will not scare the shit out of any of the shopkeepers on sight. We can pick up anything from the underground and then we can just head out to deal with the North Country’s resident icemaker.”

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“So what are we looking at here?”

Eron asked of Phera, their makeshift scout whenever necessary, as she stepped out of the snow and stone about a hundred yards from the mouth of the cavern. She started digging through her enchanted bag, being very careful not to let it sit long enough to freeze on the ground, and removed a necklace of reddish-orange beads and three vials of a blue, cold-looking liquid.

“Definitely a white dragon, maybe adult, mature adult range. He was sitting around in his human form looking bored, to it was hard to tell. Possibly close to forty-five feet, but does not appear to be the brightest dragon in the clutch. May or may not get enough information out of him before he gets impatient. Drink this.”

She handed both Eron and Dru one of the blue vials before taking her own and shooting it down.

“It is going to tingle a bit, but you will be immune to cold effects for a few hours. It will not help you with the claws and such, but you will not freeze to death any time soon, like the rest of the people around here.”

After picking up any supplies they felt they might need, they had used a crystal ball to scry ahead for the town or village closest to the dragon’s lair and teleported there to save time on the three hundred mile trip. They soon discovered that the locals had all left or died months ago; running out of food, water, and firewood with no way to travel far enough to restock. Many of the small, wooden cottages were either buried or had collapsed under the weight of several feet of snow. Scanning outward, the companions discovered that the nearest living person was nearly a hundred miles to the southwest, and he was only there under command of the local Lord to serve as a checkpoint and a warning for anyone who wished to go fight the dragon.